


The Art of Arguing With Dragons

by Deastar



Series: WIP Amnesty [14]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dragons, M/M, WIP Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-07 23:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13446009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deastar/pseuds/Deastar
Summary: Sid peers down at the human who was shoved at him – a young man, as far as he can judge.“What is going on?!” Sid asks, feeling as unmoored as a dragon ever can.The human looks nearly as confused as Sid does. “Uh, you heard the village headman,” he says tentatively. “The crops are… bad. Worse every year. We know you protect the valley, so we figured you must be mad at us if you were letting the crops fail.”“I protect the valley from things I can bite,” Sid huffs, still thoroughly confused. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about… blight, or insects, or poor crop rotation."





	The Art of Arguing With Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> WIP Amnesty: I'm getting all these never-to-be-finished fic bits off of my hard drive! Nothing that I post as part of this series is ever going to be finished, sorry, and many of these pieces are just one little scene - I'm just aiming to get some closure here so I can focus on the things I actually do have some hope of finishing.
> 
> So this project had mad tonal problems and also grew an unwieldy plot and I realized I couldn't do it justice even though I think it's a cute setup and would be fun to write if I had unlimited time. I would also like to note for the record that I started writing this BEFORE I read the other excellent dragon-related fics that have appeared over the last year or so and am kind of abashed to be so late to the party.

So Sid is a dragon, and he lives in a pretty sweet cave about halfway up a mountain in a lovely forest. He occupies his time corresponding with his dragon family and dragon friends, seeking out shiny things, hunting for tasty treats, and occasionally intervening to protect the nearby village of humans from threats that he can expeditiously deal with, like a rabid wolf, or a band of brigands. Sid mostly likes humans, and humans are really good at making awesome shiny things. Plus, dangers like brigands or wolves have a way of attracting knights. And Sid doesn’t want any knights in his forest. Sid is a peaceful dragon, but knights never seem to believe that. Or care.

One day, Sid is up in his cave, minding his own business, when a group of villagers marches up to the entrance. He sniffs to smell for the steel of a knight’s armor, but he doesn’t smell more than a few knives.

The villagers stand outside the mouth of Sid’s cave for quite a while. Eventually, Sid decides they’re probably waiting for him to come out. When he sticks his snout out into the sunlight, the humans flinch. Then the oldest one says, voice shaking, “Great dragon, we ask for your help. Our crops fail, more every year. We offer you this virgin sacrifice, according to tradition. Please give us your favor again.” And then he shoves one of the other humans in Sid’s direction, and the whole rest of the group takes off down the mountain at a trot.

Sid blinks. He blinks again. He shakes his head, as if he can clear the sound of nonsense from his ears.

He peers down at the human who was shoved at him – a young man, as far as Sid can judge. “What is going on?!” Sid asks, feeling completely unmoored.

The human looks nearly as confused as Sid does. “Uh, you heard the village headman,” he says tentatively. “The crops are… bad. Worse every year. We know you protect the valley, so we figured you must be mad at us if you were letting the crops fail.”

“I protect the valley from things I can _bite_ ,” Sid huffs, still thoroughly confused. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about… blight, or insects, or poor crop rotation, or—wait a minute, you all know that I protect the valley?” Sid demands. He’d thought he was being subtle! They weren’t even supposed to know he was here!

“You know you’re, like… the size of a house, right?” the human asks, lifting an eyebrow. “When you come flying out of here, and then the next day there’s a bunch of dead bandits by the side of the road, it’s kind of hard to miss.”

“Oh.” Sid flares his ruff, sheepish. “I guess so. But wait—why bring _you_ up here if they want help with the crops? Who are you?”

“I’m P.K.,” says the young man, and for the first time, he smiles. “I volunteered to be the sacrifice.”

There’s that “sacrifice” business again. Sid narrows his eyes. “Yes, let’s talk about this ‘sacrifice.’ What was the idea – that they would… give you to me, and in exchange, I wouldn’t be angry anymore?”

“I think that was basically it, yeah.”

Sid absorbs that, and he doesn’t like it at all, but he’s not sure how much not to like it, because he still doesn’t _understand_ it. “What did they think I would do with you once I got you?” he demands to know. “Why would I want a human? Are you a metalworker?” He peers at the young man—P.K.—intently, looking for the telltale signs of scarring on the hands that would give away that trade. But he doesn’t see them.

P.K. shrugs. “I don’t think anybody really knew. It’s just… traditional, I guess, in these parts, that when a dragon is angry, you give them a human sacrifice. I think probably a lot of them thought you’d eat me, but I noticed you never ate the bandits, so I wasn’t too worried about that. Plus, if you wanted to eat humans, you pretty much could have picked us off whenever.”

That's really quite astute, Sid reflects.

Looking more than a little nonplussed himself, P.K. adds, “And uh, no, I’m not a metalworker. I’m a hunter, and a carver – why, did you want a metalworker?”

“It would be nice,” Sid says wistfully. “To make things for me. But I wouldn’t need one _all to myself_ anyway, so it would still be silly,” he concludes, with a huff of air out of his nostrils. Something else occurs to him, remembering the old man’s words: “Did he say ‘virgin’?” Sid asks suspiciously.

P.K. blushes. “Uh. Yeah. That’s traditional, too.”

“But _why_?” Sid asks, completely bewildered all over again.

P.K. shrugs again. “Beats me. Everyone knows dragons are magic, and I guess some of the other people figured you would want to use me for spells and stuff, like to handle small things and gather ingredients, and that you’d want somebody… pure?”

Sid frowns. “Sex isn’t _unclean_ ,” he protests. “It doesn’t _taint_ you. If you’re doing it right, it’s _good_ for you!”

P.K. absorbs this, then offers, “I think a lot of humans think it’s dirty.”

“But they do it a lot. All the time,” Sid points out, narrowing his eyes.

“Humans are complicated,” P.K. informs him.

Sid sighs. “Apparently. I grew up around humans, you know. In a nice town, by the ocean. But I’ve lived out here in the forest for a long time now, and I suppose I forgot what you’re like. I _like_ humans,” Sid stresses, suddenly realizing that he hasn’t been particularly tactful, “I just don’t understand them half the time.”

P.K., fortunately, doesn't appear to have taken offense.

“Well,” Sid says briskly. “I’m not angry, and I’m not doing anything to the crops, and I don’t need a human who’s not a metalworker and I wouldn’t need a metalworker full time, anyway, so you can go back down the mountain and tell them that and keep hunting and carving and not having sex, just like you were before.”

P.K. bites his lip. “Uh, about that…”

It turns out that the village had offered _impressive_ incentives to anyone willing to volunteer as the dragon’s sacrifice, and if P.K. turns around and goes back to the village now, his family will have to return the fairly massive endowment of goods and cattle that P.K. won for them by volunteering. “We’re not _poor_ ,” P.K. says defensively, before slumping a little. “We weren’t,” he says, in a softer voice, “when the crops were healthy. When we had corn to sell, and apples.” He looks up at Sid and says, implacable, “I took care of them. I dug them out of that by coming here. I’m not undoing that. You could make me, I know. But I won’t go willingly. I won’t do that to them.”

Sid glares. “I _could_ make you,” he announces, just so that’s perfectly clear. But…

The problem is that Sid admires bravery. He admires loyalty, and especially loyalty to your family. He admires stubbornness, even.

Sid asks, resigned, “How would I even feed you?” and by the triumphant gleam in P.K.’s eyes, he recognizes it for the capitulation it is.

“I can feed myself,” he assures Sid. “Like I said, I’m a hunter.”

Sid is not impressed by this answer. “Humans need grains and fruits and things, not just meat,” he informs P.K.

P.K. seems unconcerned. “I can gather roots, and gather wild fruit from the forest.”

“Hmmph.” Sid’s cave has a human-sized guest room for the occasional traveling sorcerer who comes to visit, so he can’t object on the ground that there’s no place for P.K. to stay. “Well, I suppose that’ll occupy some of your time. But other than feeding yourself, what do you plan to _do_ all day?”

To Sid’s surprise, P.K. grins, wide and bright. “I’m not good at being idle,” he tells Sid. “Don’t worry, I’ll find things. And I can help you, if there’s anything you need. You want me to learn metalworking? I can learn metalworking.” The whole speech is delivered with perfect confidence, even as Sid splutters.

“You are not going to pick up a whole new trade from _scratch_ ,” Sid says, scowling, “without apprenticing or the proper equipment or anything—”

“You don’t know what I can do,” P.K. counters, but there’s no anger in his face or in his voice – he’s still smiling, as if he knows the punch line to a joke that Sid hasn’t gotten yet. “I’m pretty good at picking things up, when I put my mind to it.”

Sid draws breath for a retort, but then lets it out in a half-laugh. “You’ve certainly picked up the art of arguing with dragons,” he admits, ruefully. “And winning. All right. You can stay.”

“Thank you,” P.K. says, beaming.

 

 ***

[LATER ON:]

“Are you…” P.K. gets a look on his face that says he thinks he’s pushing his luck, but he doesn’t stop. “Look, you can do magic – are you _sure_ you can’t do anything for the village? For the crops?”

He winces, as if he’s expecting Sid to be annoyed, but Sid understands loyalty to your family, and he admires P.K.’s relentless drive to help others.

“I wish I could,” Sid says. His opinion of the villagers has taken a nosedive since they tried to feed him one of their children, but he still feels somewhat responsible for them. _And you’d do anything for P.K._ , a voice in his head points out. It’s not wrong.

P.K. looks unconvinced, so Sid explains, “Dragons are creatures of fire and air. Refreshing exhausted soil or purifying tainted lands… that’s earth magic. It won’t work for me. I’m sorry,” he adds more softly.

“It’s okay.” P.K. is visibly deflated, though. “I’m… going to go for a hunt,” he adds.

“Be careful,” Sid says gently. He doesn’t like the thought of P.K. taking his frustration into the forest with him, but he understands needing some space to cool down.

When P.K. comes back, though, he doesn’t look like a man who’s made his peace with disappointment. His eyes are bright as he marches up to Sid and asks, “What about weather?”

“What _about_ weather?” Sid asks, baffled.

“You said fire and air – I couldn’t think of a way to use the fire thing, but is weather magic air magic? Could you bring the village rain?”

Sid blinks. “I… maybe?” he hazards. “I’ve never tried. But in theory, I can’t see why not.”

**Author's Note:**

> P.K. charms Sid thoroughly with his cheerfulness and determination and Sid charms P.K. with his grumpiness and protectiveness and they fall in love. Unfortunately, the reason the valley's crops are failing is that dragons and sorcerers both draw their magical power from the land, and P.K. is a SEKRIT WIZARD (secret even from himself - he has no idea that magic is why he's so good at picking up new skills) and having P.K. and Sid both drawing power from the valley has left the land with not enough energy to sustain the crops and forests, etc. Sid eventually figures it out and sends P.K. to the magic school at the Royal Mountain to get trained, saying goodbye with a heavy heart because he knows that when P.K. comes back to be with his family, Sid will have to leave (so as not to kill the valley with their combined magic-sucking) and so they can NEVAH BE TOGETHAH. But when P.K. comes back he tells Sid that's dumb and they can travel the world like most sorcerers do, so they won't suck magic from any one place long enough to damage it, and Sid is like BUT YOUR FAMILY and P.K. is like WE CAN VISIT THEM, CHILL OUT. And they live happily ever after.
> 
> (And also there's a whole subplot involving Hilary Knight, who is, of course, a knight, because how could I possibly resist? And she sliiiightly tries to kill Sid but P.K. convinces her that some dragons are okay, and then later she drops by to cheer Sid up while P.K. is gone and is like, "Do you want me to try to kill you again? I won't try very hard, but you look like you could use the distraction." And Sid nods sadly and makes some half-hearted attempts to set her on fire.)


End file.
